Death Do Us Part
by MotivatedUnicorn
Summary: John and Mary Watson live perfectly. After having gotten married with a child on the way, they could ask for nothing more. One morning however, an old friend appears, and John finds himself in the middle of a crisis.
1. The Odd Visitor

The bright kitchen of John and Mary's quaint house had a comforting glow that radiated to anyone who was lucky enough to be in it. Several lavender candles were lit, allowing the pleasing scent of a fresh spring day to waft through the house. There was a long row of counter space to one side, the backsplash a bright white and yellow. A table sat at the other end of the kitchen near a big window where the morning air crept it's way in the cracks. Seated there was John Watson, looking over the morning paper while his wife, Mary, prepared breakfast. Her protruding belly made it hard for her to move sometimes, but she insisted that she do everything she wanted to do for him. Watson agreed to let her keep her independence until the baby was born.

"What's for breakfast?" John smiled, his relaxed face turning to his wife.

"Just some waffles." she said, smiling back.

"You just about look ready to burst, Mary." Said John, commenting on how big her belly has grown over the past seven months.

"It feels that way too." replied Mary, placing the freshly cooked waffles on two large plates before bringing them to the table. Enjoying their meal, the two lovebirds exchanged winks and grins every once in a while as they devoured their breakfast. A knock at the door startled them as they finished their meal.

"I'll get the door." Insisted John, getting up to greet their unexpected guest. As he opened the door, he saw a rather worn out looking man. He wore an old wrinkled shirt with pants that looked too big for him, and he slumped over as if he were going to fall asleep right then and there.

"Sherlock?" said John, concerned and surprised.

"I need to..." mumbled Sherlock, before losing his balance and falling into their home.


	2. A Possible Solution

Sherlock Holmes woke up on a couch in their house. John was knelt beside him while Mary was getting water.

"Hey Sherlock, how are you feeling?" John asked, with a concerned look. He still felt uncertain about the situation. He grabbed a cup of water from Mary's hand and put it to his lips. Sherlock drank a sip of the water before answering.

"I'm fine-" Sherlock paused, reaching for his head. "John. Really..." A subtle pained expression arose on Sherlock's face. John felt Sherlock's forehead before resting his hand on his arm. At least he didn't feel ill, but his starch white face contrasted only by the blue-ish circles beneath his eyes told a different story.

"Why did you come over? Before you fell, you had said you needed something. What is it you need?" John asked. Sherlock sighed.

"I don't know John. Whatever I said.. I don't know." Sherlock averted his gaze to Mary, wide mouthed in shock, staring at the half-dead detective on the couple's couch.

"What are _you_ looking at?" asked Sherlock. Mary apologized before leaving the room, leaving the two alone.

"Sherlock, please tell me. What's wrong? I'm really worried about you!" John said sincerely. Sherlock, having been still dizzy and disoriented from the fall began to tell John his problems.

"I can't sleep John. Ever since you left Baker street... I need sleep!" Cried Sherlock, desperate and seemingly out of it.

"I have taken every drug I can get my hands on, but nothing is working. John I think I..." Sherlock paused.

"No, I've told you enough already. I don't know what to do, John." Sherlock said solemnly. John had tears welling up in his eyes, seeing his usually prideful partner breaking down in front of him. If only he had known, he could have done something about it earlier. If only...

"Sherlock, let me help you. I can help find what the cause is and... I suppose you can stay for the night." John concluded.

And for the first time in months, Sherlock took a sigh of relief. "Thank you, John."


	3. To Have Rest

Sherlock slept in John and Mary's bed in the middle of the day. Mary left to go to the hospital because of some pains in her feet, which John shook his head at. Nevertheless, John sat there next to his bed, watching Sherlock breathe deeply as he slept. It was a sad sight, John thought, seeing his friend lying there. Somehow, he could only sleep when John was around. This puzzled him very much. Was he afraid? He simply couldn't tell with Sherlock. He always had been a walking mystery.

"J-John?" Whimpered Sherlock, beginning to wake from his sleep. John snapped out of his thoughts and noticed tears in his friend's eyes.

"Did you have a nightmare?" asked John, kneeling besides the bed. Sherlock nodded.

"You were.. killed.." He sobbed.

"No I wasn't." replied John in a comforting tone. "I'm right here." He reached out to wipe the tears from his friend's eyes, causing him to calm down. He even smiled for a moment.

"Thank you John..." said Sherlock, before once again falling asleep at the doctor's side.


	4. More Questions Than Answers

The next morning was just as puzzling as the day before for John. Mary returned from the hospital in crutches, being near unable to walk from the blisters caused by the weight of her pregnancy and shoes which were too small. Sherlock was up, sitting at the breakfast table. He illuminated the rainy morning with his fiery spirit and rekindled energy. A grin often appeared on his features as he ate breakfast with the Watsons, and John couldn't help but glance at him as he stared out the window. Of course, Sherlock didn't exactly look as peachy, but that didn't run the moment. Mary was guarded around Sherlock. Her body tense, offering only a fake half-smile when John peered over at her. She had known him long enough to know he wasn't dangerous, right? Did Mary know something John didn't? Nevertheless, the breakfast was plentiful and delicious. Being satisfied, Sherlock rose from his seat to wash his plate. John was nearly stunned at his modesty, and smiled to himself despite his confusion.

"Hey _Sherlock_?" bugged John, himself emerging from his seat to clean his plate.

"Yes _John_?" Sherlock jeered sarcastically.

"Since you're apparently feeling better and all, why don't we go back to Baker street together? I would like to judge your living situation, and see if the problem you're facing is merely environmental."

Sherlock had just finished cleaning his plate, prepared to put it away when he hesitated.

"I don't think you would like what you see." Sherlock replied. This got John very curious.

"Too bad. I'm going anyway." insisted John.

"Really, it's just a mess is all.. there's no need to..." Sherlock reasoned. Despite his attempts, Sherlock recognized the look in John's eyes. That military strength glare that he found so weakening. Sherlock stepped back, racing out the door to hail a cab in the hopes he would be able to get to 221b before John could.


End file.
